


For my Valentine

by InkAtHeart



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Drabble, M/M, Prompt Fic, Valentine's Day, happy then sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-09 22:37:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7819972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkAtHeart/pseuds/InkAtHeart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hanzo picked the rose up and slowly spun it between two fingers, then brought the flower to his nose and smiled as he took a breath. The look in his eyes as he glanced up at Jesse near made his poor heart burst, “Silly American traditions. Oddly endearing.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	For my Valentine

As the owner of the ‘Guns ‘n Roses’ café and flower shop, McCree was more than used to spending Valentines day working a double shift. It had been years since he had a proper date, especially not on such an important day for business. They opened early and closed late, and had become a popular stop for blind-dates. Which was why it was always a sad sight to see people get stood up.

He showed up at four pm sharp, ordered an herbal tea, and took a table at the shop’s back corner. He was a business-man by every appearance, dressed in a suit and tie with clean black shoes and a no-nonsense air. Obviously of Asian descent, Jesse was terrible at telling which country. Older, probably just a little older than Jesse himself, with sharp facial features – though he was definitely aging gracefully.

Far more gracefully than a thirty-seven year old florist who wore too much plaid and put on another five pounds last month. Jesse wasn’t a bad looking man, but compared to a handsome businessman he looked a little shabby. So he kept putting orders together, stabbed himself on no less than five roses (really, he should have been better than that but he wasn’t), and let himself enjoy the eye-candy from a distance.

Four turned to four-thirty. Jesse figured that perhaps the handsome stranger had just showed up early.

Four-thirty edged to five. A rush swarmed into the café, orders for coffee and flowers poured in. Jesse could barely keep up.

He didn’t look over again until six. The man was still there, alone, tapping at his phone. It was almost painful to think someone so gorgeous was being stood up. A fresh cup of tea sat at his elbow untouched.

At six forty-five, as he was sweeping up the thorns and leaves from his work-space, there was a gentle tap at his arm. Lena stood at his side, her smile bright, “Go on then, you’re due for a break anyway,” she glanced over to the man settled at the table. “At least go say hi,” she pushed.

“Lena, he’s a sharp-dressed man with higher standards than someone like me. Pro’lly don’ even like men,” Jesse pointed out with a sigh, keeping his voice down. The café was far from empty, but was thinning out.

She scoffed, “At least offer. He’s been sitting there for hours, he’s probably desperate for company.”

“Desperate you say,” the man chuckled softly, “Well I guess that’s just my type ain’ it?”

Lena giggled and Jesse turned and went for the kitchen. He grabbed a pack of his special hand-packed herbal tea bags and pulled one out, grabbing a small kettle of hot water to pour two cups. On his way out he paused and grabbed a single red rose, clipped the thorns, and stepped out to the café.

The man looked tense and ready to leave any moment. Jesse steeled himself for a moment before making his way over, smiling as he set down the cup of tea, the rose, and a gentle, “Howdy.”

Whiskey colored eyes turned up at him, briefly hopeful before turning to contrite disappointment, “I did not order this,” he stated simply.

“Naw,” Jesse shrugged, “But it’s my special blend and you looked like you could use some company.”

“I do not want pity,” the man sneered, his English impeccable but laced with accent. He was defensive, and Jesse couldn’t blame him one bit.

“Well, I admit I do feel a bit sorry for ya. Hard to see this happen. But I came to offer company, not pity. Ain’ often we see such a nice dressed man walk in here, and I’d say I wanna see you walk in again,” he smiled sheepishly.

Something dawned on the man’s face and suddenly he chuckled, a bark of a laugh that turned his lips up but the smile was far from pleasant, “You think I got rejected from a date, don’t you?” He sat back and laughed again, and Jesse felt himself shying back, “Ah yes, today is the day of lust for you Americans isn’t it? A coincidence. I was waiting for my brother to get off work. I did not want to waste my time sitting in my hotel room.”

Oh…

“Er, sorry Partner,” his own smile felt weak and pitiful as he reached down to take back the rose, “Tea’s on the house at least.”

A hand shot out faster than Jesse expected, gripping his prosthetic wrist. The man looked curious, attention down at the metal, “Where does a florist get such an injury?” he asked, voice low and curious, eyes searching up the false limb to where it cut off at the elbow, “And more, where does a florist get the money for such a prosthetic?”

Jesse yanked his hand back suddenly, feeling self-conscious, “Lost it in  the Omnic wars. Served near fifteen years,” he snapped.

The man looked surprised for a moment, “My sincerest apologies. I meant no dishonor. I saw you working earlier, my curiosity got the better of me.” There was a momentary pause where the conversation seemed to end before, “Come, then. Sit. You went through the trouble.”

Jesse relaxed some, smiling. He accepted the invitation despite the rocky start, settling into the chair opposite the man, “Jesse McCree.”

“Hanzo,” a pause then, “Shimada,” as if an afterthought.

“Shimada? Naw, any relation to Genji Shimada?”

Hanzo sighed heavily at the name, glancing to the tattoo parlor across the street where the man worked, “Yes. The brother I am waiting for.”

Jesse chuckled, “He comes in here often for coffee. Nice guy. A bit odd.”

“A bit?” Hanzo huffed a laugh, “That he became a tattoo artist does not surprise me in the least.” He glanced down, looking to redirect the conversation, “Why would you offer a stranger a rose?”

This made the florist blink, then smile, “Well I was gonna ask you to be my Valentine, seein’ as I figured you got stood up.”

Hanzo picked the rose up and slowly spun it between two fingers, then brought the flower to his nose and smiled as he took a breath. The look in his eyes as he glanced up at Jesse near made his poor heart burst, “Silly American traditions. Oddly endearing.”

Feeling a small burst of bravery, Jesse gave an honest try, “Well I know the day’s almost over but… _will_ you be my Valentine?”

To his surprise, Hanzo smiled…

 

* * *

 

Thirty years later Hanzo stepped into the familiar flower shop and café. It was late, and the shop itself had closed almost an hour ago. He was familiar enough with the layout that he moved across the mostly dark space with ease, to the illuminated glass case settled by a familiar table in the back of the café.

Under two dim lights was a framed painting. A familiar sight of a time nearly thirty-years ago. A painting done by his own brother of Jesse McCree and himself, hand-in-hand. The kiss from their wedding. His eyes welled up at the sight.

Directly beneath the painting was a plaque…

Jesse McCree, 2023 – 2081.

Hanzo swallowed hard. Then, despite the pain of his arthritis and his aching back, he lowered himself to his knees on the tile,  settled himself into position. His hands reached into his jacket where he found the small rolled-up bamboo mat, laying it out over the tiles before he pulled out the incense and holding-plate. He set both of these down, lit the incense…

Finally, tucked into the opposite breast pocket, he removed the single red rose and set it down in the center of the mat. Bowing his head he swallowed, eyes locked on the band around his ring-finger.

“For my Valentine…”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! If you enjoyed this piece, here's some information you might find appealing:
> 
> You can find my tumblr here: http://inkatheart.tumblr.com/  
> I am on the McHanzo Discord Group, you can ping me using @Julie#0744  
> If you'd like to support this work and any future works you can read more on that here: http://inkatheart.tumblr.com/post/148343874810/support-the-author
> 
> This work was based off of this prompt:  
> http://redeyed-crowley.tumblr.com/post/149165130469/imagine-your-otp
> 
> Thank you for all of your love and support!


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